I seem to have been committing some kind of social faux pas for the last 18 months.
Back home, if a worker came to the house to repair something, and was there for more than 90 minutes, and was in the house, and I was making one for myself, I would offer him (usually a him – I don’t remember any hers) a cup of tea. They always said no, at which point I would offer a glass of water. When the guys came to lay a stone pathway in the summer, I would take them out slices of watermelon and offer soft drinks. Although, not every day that they were there, now that I think of it. But for the most part, I would just let people get on with their job. The appliance installers were in and out in under a half hour, the furnace guy was there a good two hours, but he had a thermos with him, and in the years I had yardwork done monthly, they were in the yard and gone within 30 minutes, so I never offered. Never crossed my mind, and no one seemed put out.
Well. Just had the guy in to finish the insulation in the roof (which was supposed to be done in October). He was here for 90 minutes, and left halfway through to fetch another load of insulation rolls (truck bed was too small for the whole load). Seemed like a nice guy, did his work, said, “That’s you then.” (Scottish for “There you go sir/madam; all done.”), and headed out the door. But just now, while I was talking to one of my new Scottish friends, she said the same thing that another friend had mentioned a few months ago, “And you gave him a cup of tea.” A statement, not a question. They were both very surprised when I said no, I hadn’t. I mean, really surprised.
It had never occurred to me. One of the ladies said it’s how she makes sure they do a good job. Now, I always introduce myself when they arrive, and show them where things are, like where the ladder is if needed, or the electrical panel, and of course, the bathroom. And then I always say the same thing: “And what do you need from me?” I assumed that and a pleasant smile was all that was needed in order for them to do a good job. (And from what I can tell, every job that’s been done in the houses I’ve lived in here has been done well.)
But now I feel bad – what do you suppose they’ve been saying behind my back? “Stuck up besom.” “Miserable git.” Oh dear.